The Great Exploration
by Hiddlesybatched
Summary: Language warning hence the k rating. Basically a funny little Drabble of the whole crew going kayaking.


So again, my friend and I wrote a little piece in our week away so we thought we'd share it. I must confess though, I don't know her author name on here. Keep an eye out! Please. ^_^ language warning!

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The sun shimmered across the rippling waves as a piercing shriek disturbed some nearby roosting gulls, causing them to fly up into the cerulean sky in alarm. Feminine laughter rang out as a deafening splash was heard.

"SHERLOCK?!"

The sea became calm as the dark head did not appear, causing frowns of worry to cross the assembled groups' faces- all except for Mycroft and Anthea, who appeared bored.

"Mycroft…." The soft, mellow voice of Molly Hooper roused him from his apathy.

"He hasn't… uhm… Deleted the sea, has he?"

John went even paler.

"The fucking idiot would as well, shit! What am I going to tell Mary? We needed him as a babysitter next week."

Mycroft smirked and started to count down from ten. When he reached three, a glossy, somewhat alarming creature emerged from the deep, a jellyfish reclining on a bed of seaweed on top of a head of vaguely familiar, but sodden, curls.

"Miss me?"

John launched himself at him, capsizing their kayak which whacked Sherlock right in the eye.

Greg burst into laughter and stole Anthea's phone, recording the two eejits fighting in the surf, whilst Mycroft berated him for loosening his hold on his umbrella.

Molly frowned.

Mycroft saw this and gave her puppy dog eyes, begging her to let him scold Gregory for his impertinence.

She sighed. Then nodded.

Meanwhile, Sherlock had swum back to the kayak and was in the process of clambering back into it, looking strangely like an otter as he floundered. John hauled him back by the neck, using the momentum and pent up rage to propel himself back in, calling Sherlock a cock as he did so.

"Well, John, you and Molly would know, wouldn't you?"

He was entirely unprepared for Molly throwing a rather large purple Jelly fish at his head using the paddle of her kayak

"Look, Sherlock! It matches your favourite shirt!"

He pouted at her petulantly, causing his big brother to attempt to glare menacingly, which also failed.

In the distance, Philip and Sally circled like gulls, unable to paddle in a straight line.

"Guys?! Little help?"

"NO!"

It seemed the group was in unison against the pair, watching in amusement as a particularly large wave roared over their heads, half of them waiting hopefully for them to surface, the others cheering the wave on.  
Their heads popped back up, Anderson appearing as gormless as ever, Sally strongly resembling a drowned poodle.

Groans and cheers met their survival.

Sherlock bristled, and then brought their attention back to him, where it in all honesty truly belonged.

"So, race to the buoy? Or the big rock?"

"Sherlock, are you sure you know how steer? I'd feel so much safer with me in the front."

"Shut up John, of course I know how to steer. And even if I didn't, how hard can it be to pick up?"

John groaned loudly, wishing he had chosen Molly as his partner.

For god's sake, she looked positively smug!

She by all accounts shouldn't have, bearing in mind the extra weight they would be towing in the form of Anthea and Greg – who may or may not have been tied to the kayak, umbrella superglued to his hand.

And yet, as the race started, it was painfully clear why she looked so smug.  
Sherlock and John stared in awe as they sped past, floundering to ready the oars as Greg cheered in glee.

"Wheeeeeee!" His one remaining arm not tied in place holding the umbrella waved in the air as they zoomed off, bubbles churning in their wake.

Anthea still looked bored.

Sherlock started muttering under his breath and started frantically pumping his arms in a weird motion, completely disregarding the oars and soaking John in the process.

John smacked him round the back of the head with his oars, and screamed at him to "fucking paddle you complete and utter useless walking encyclopediatic cock!"

Molly and Mycroft's oars worked perfectly in sync with one another, blurring as they continued to paddle. Soon, they reached the buoy, stroking it inappropriately and giggling childishly as Mycroft whispered "Oh, if the rest of the Government heard I did that!"

"Sherlock, John, concede defeat?"

"NEVER!" Came the roared reply. They could barely see them in the distance,

Anderson and Sally slowly catching up, still paddling in wide circles.

Mycroft and Molly giggled once more before setting off again, this time to the massive rock about a mile away.

"D'you reckon we can do it in ten minutes?"

"I rather think we will, Doctor Hooper."

John shouted his frustration as the struggling kayak of Anderson and Sally nudged past them, still curving, and again as they passed again…. On the second half of their circle.

"For fuck's sake, Sherlock, we've been overtaken by Sanderson!"

"Sanderson? Who? John, you're going delusional, how much sea water did you drink?"  
Now he mentioned it, John did feel a little funny, though he wasn't sure if that was due to him now being a hedgehog or not. Sherlock had also somehow morphed into an otter, Anderson resembling some kind of hairless rat, Sally still as poodle-y as ever, and the others were far too far away for him to see, though he suspected Mycroft to be an Owl.

He hated owls. They were predators for poor little hedgehogs like himself.

"Sherlock…. Why do you have fur? And when did that nose… happen?"  
Sherlock sighed and attempted to paddle, resulting in them landing in the sea yet again.

"SHERLOCK! Noooooo! LISTEN HERE, DICKBAG, HEDGEHOGS CAN'T SWIM!"

Sherlock grimaced in pain as John clambered as far up his body as possible, forcing his head under the water. He resurfaced, spluttering as John screamed again, coughing water out of his lungs.

"John, what the bloody hell are you doing?"

"SNAKKKKEEEEEE! SNAKE IN THE WATER – FUCK – FUCK – SHIT - I'M PREY - I AM SO DEAD. SHERLOCK HELP ME!"

Sherlock locked eyes with the snake, and glared.

"Well, hello boys! Missed me? Of course you haven't. Anyway, unpleasantness aside, I want to rescue you. Molly dearest would be so upset if I let you die...again…"

John attempted to bite his finger in a hedgehog-like manner, completely unaware of the strength of his hallucinations. And apparently his jaws.

Jim cried out in pain, holding his bitten finger to Irene to kiss better. She rolled her eyes, winked at Sherlock, then kissed it better. Then took it too far, sliding the digit into her mouth and pretending it was a penis, before Jim threw her into the water.

"Help them out, please, my dear."

Mycroft, however, lay back in the kayak as Molly dove in, looking for baby sharks.

She'd heard about their love of human blood and brought with them on their trip a couple of fingers that no-one except Sherlock would ever miss.

Speaking of whom, she resolved to eat them if the sharks didn't come, if needs must, just to keep them out of his hands.

She fantasised for a moment about curling them into his hair, then let one go as bait.

Greg laughed as it bobbed to the surface, and began to poke them down just to watch them bob back up, giggling the entire time. Anthea threw her shoe at him.

The sound of a motorboat roused Mycroft from his pleasant imagining's of a people-less world, filled instead with only himself, Molly, Sherlock (as otherwise Molly would complain), John (as then Sherlock would complain which would make Molly angry with him), Gregory, Anthea and Mummy. And cake. Lots, lots and lots of cake, of every kind, except fruit, or other such deceptively healthy styles.

Jim, Irene, Sherlock and John boated into sight, coming to an abrupt stop right on top of Molly. She frowned at them all, holding in her arms a baby shark. John screamed as she emerged, rambling about T-rexes with long brown hair holding sharks.

Sherlock screamed too as a large dorsal fin came into sight behind her, catching her arm and dragging her up into the boat, as Jim stared at the engine, willing it to start.

Once again, Irene was the practical one and actually started it, as Jim hauled Molly out of Sherlock's arms and snogged her. Sherlock felt left out so turned to John, who punched him, then fainted due to the shock of seeing a snake snog a t-rex, and an otter attempt to snog him.

Sherlock still felt left out so joined Jim and Molly, whilst Irene pouted in the background but still navigated them safely into a handy nearby cave. Mycroft soon joined them, hangers on in tow, shark nowhere to be seen.

Suddenly, an ominous cracking filled the cave, as a muffled shout of "shit" drifted to them on the breeze.

"Fucking Anderson!"

They'd crashed into the wall of the cave!  
Stones rained down on them, creating massive waves that thrilled Jim and Sherlock as they continued to snog Molly. They didn't notice that she had moved to join Mycroft.  
Everyone else said their goodbyes as the light was shut out by the stones.

Except John, who was still convinced he was a Hedgehog.


End file.
